Doc in Shining Armor
by Henna Gamgee
Summary: A series of one-shots focusing on the friendship between Rebecca and Doc Soto. I am taking suggestions for future chapters! CHAPTER 3 NOW UP. Doc gets sick. Rebecca to the rescue!
1. A Night in the ER

**Title: Doc in Shining Armor**

**Chapter 1: Doc Soto muses about his partner while they wait in a crowded ER after "The Ames Brothers."**

**Characters: Doc and Rebecca, no pairing.**

**Rating: K+**

**Disclaimer: I don't own the Alcatraz TV show. I make no financial profit from this story.  
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**A/N: Based on a true story, oddly enough. The part about the drunk guy, I mean. :P**

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><p><strong>1. A Night in the ER<strong>

Doc Soto leaned back in his hard plastic seat and tried to ignore his throbbing head.

"I wonder where he went," Doc mused, mainly to distract himself.

Rebecca glanced over at him tiredly, eyebrows raised.

"Hauser," Doc clarified. "I mean, he just ordered us to go the ER and then took off with Donovan."

"He always takes off with the prisoners once we catch them," Rebecca pointed out. "I wonder where he takes them? He went to all the trouble of having Jack Sylvane brought to Alcatraz, just to get out of telling me what prison he was in." She closed her eyes.

"Yeah, but Hauser was shot! Why didn't he come to the ER with us? Do you think he has some kind of crazy powers of regeneration?"

"Maybe he just knows of a less crowded ER than this one and didn't want to share."

The waiting area was indeed packed, and uncomfortably warm, and noisy. There was hardly an empty seat in the place. Doc didn't mind sharing his wait with the young family in the corner, the elderly man with what looked to be his middle-aged son, or the couple sitting quietly by the entrance. He could have done without the half-dozen men who looked like they'd had some sort of bar brawl. They were loud, drunk, and extremely obnoxious.

Doc sighed and looked at his watch. They'd been through triage over three hours ago, and there was no sign they'd be seen any time soon.

Rebecca shifted in her seat, and Doc studied her in concern. Dark bruises marred her pale face and ringed her neck. He knew he probably didn't look any better, but the sight made Doc a little sick. He didn't like knowing how close she'd come to being strangled on the cold floor of a prison, by a murderous thug who had supposedly died before she was born.

Doc thought, not for the first time, that Rebecca was incredibly brave, to be going after the most dangerous criminals in the country with nothing but her gun and her wits. Kind of like Batman, in a way—one of the few superheroes without superpowers. Except Batman was a big strong guy, and Rebecca was _tiny._ Tiny and delicate. Also absurdly young, and she looked even younger than she was. She probably wouldn't look out of place among his parents' undergraduate students, which surely couldn't make it any easier when she needed the bad guys—or other cops—to take her seriously. But she obviously had a lot of guts, and plain old perseverance. And she had earned Doc's admiration and respect a dozen times over.

Rebecca shifted again, and winced. Doc hoped they would be seen soon. Rebecca and Hauser had both thought Doc might have a concussion, but he was just as worried about her, mainly because she wasn't the type to speak up. And he'd seen part of what she'd been through tonight; she could have cracked ribs and who knows what else. He couldn't help but feel protective of Rebecca, and yet he was the useless one when it came to taking down the thugs.

But he had saved her life tonight, which was awesome. Terrifying, but awesome. Maybe her superhero vibes were rubbing off on him.

Perhaps sensing his attention, Rebecca glanced over. "Feeling okay, Doc?"

"I'd probably feel better at home, in my nice quiet bed," he shrugged.

One corner of Rebecca's mouth quirked up. "I know. Just our luck to have to come here on a Saturday night. And I could wish the a/c was working right." She grimaced as she shrugged out of her jacket and folded it over the back of her chair.

Doc scowled; her arms were covered in bruises. "That's gotta hurt," was all he said, knowing she wouldn't like it if he made a fuss.

"A rough night for all of us," she countered.

"Yeah." They lapsed into silence again. Doc closed his eyes, but there was no way he could sleep in all this commotion. After awhile he felt a gentle pressure on his shoulder. He looked over in surprise to see that Rebecca, apparently better able than he to sleep in these conditions, had listed to the side until her head came to rest on his upper arm.

It was good to be needed, even if only as a pillow. Doc smiled and watched her for a minute, until he realized he wasn't the only one. On Rebecca's other side was one of the drunk guys from the bar fight. He had a nasty cut over one eye and had apparently finished the conversation he'd been having with his friend, both of them shouting at the top of their lungs. Now his eyes were running over Rebecca's body in a way that Doc definitely didn't like. He liked the man's lecherous grin even less.

Doc glared until the man looked at him.

"Wha's happened, you rough 'er up?" the man slurred.

"No!" Doc said, appalled at the idea. "And keep your eyes to yourself."

"Hey man, sh's a pretty girl, I'm jus' admiring the goods," the man said, raising his hands in a placating gesture.

Doc scowled harder until the man, 'Drunky' as Doc had mentally christened him, looked away. He tried to relax, wondering if this miserable night would ever end. He must have dozed off at some point, because the next thing Doc noticed was a slight jerk in the gentle pressure on his shoulder. He looked down to see what had disturbed Rebecca and was outraged to see that Drunky had his filthy hand on her thigh!

"What's the matter with you?" Doc demanded of the drunk man indignantly. "Get your hand off her." Apparently his raised voice was enough to fully awaken his partner, because she shifted against him again and finally opened bleary blue eyes.

Drunky withdrew his wandering hand but gave Doc a sly grin. "Why doncha let _her _decide, dough boy?"

"What the—" Rebecca muttered and sat up. Drunky had stopped groping her but it didn't take a detective to figure out what had happened. "Keep your hands to yourself or I'll break them off!" she told him angrily.

"Hey baby, wasn' me!" Drunky protested. "That guy y'r with, he's th' one feelin' you up."

Rebecca rolled her eyes. "Doc here is a gentleman, you moron. I only see one scumbag pervert next to me, and it isn't him."

"Yer the mos' beautiful girl I ever seen," Drunky garbled obliviously. "I mus' a been meant to come to this ER, jus' to meet you."

"You're so drunk you won't even remember this tomorrow, pal," Doc couldn't resist pointing out.

Drunky frowned at him, then turned back to an incredulous Rebecca. "So what do ya say, gorgeous, will ya go out with me?" he leered.

"Not happening," Rebecca said, in what Doc had come to think of as her 'tough guy' voice. "And we have had a _really _bad day so leave us alone and keep your hands to yourself, or I'll arrest you." She rummaged in her jacket, finally coming up with her police badge.

Drunky's eyes widened comically. "Whoa, baby, I don't want no trouble," he slurred, and turned away to talk to his friend.

Rebecca put away her badge. "Thanks, Doc. I'm glad one of us is on the ball," she said quietly.

"Yeah," Doc agreed. He looked around, wondering what to do. Rebecca looked ready to fall back asleep any minute, handsy pervert or no, and Doc didn't think he could stay alert enough to keep an eye on things for very long. "Hey, Rebecca," he said, lurching to his feet. "Switch seats with me?"

"Uh, okay," Rebecca said, agreeably enough. She slid over and Doc sat down.

"You can go back to sleep, I mean, if you want," he told her. She was now sitting between Doc and the rather tacky cloth fichus tree at the end of the row.

Rebecca looked at him curiously before following his gaze to the ugly little tree. She smiled. "Thanks, Doc."

"Anytime," Doc said. The bad guys had been caught, Rebecca was safe at his side, and a lousy night in the ER couldn't last forever. The throbbing in his skull even seemed a little muted as Rebecca made herself comfortable, leaning against his shoulder.

"My Doc in shining armor," Rebecca murmured. He felt her smile against his upper arm.

"Damn straight," Doc nodded. Yup, the superhero vibes were definitely rubbing off on him.

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><p>End<p>

**Disclaimer: I do not own Alcatraz. I get nothing for writing this story except enjoyment. And hopefully reviews. ;) *hint hint***


	2. The Paparazzo

**A/N: So, I had a few procrastinatory minutes today and sat down to work on the next chapter of my LOTR story. But my brain had other ideas, and this is what came out instead. :P **

**No spoilers in this one, no particular time frame. Probably before the finale.**

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><p><strong>2. The Paparazzo <strong>

Rebecca turned the page, frowning. She leaned forward and rested her elbows on the counter with a sigh. "This is probably pointless," she admitted.

Doc, standing behind the counter of his comic shop, shrugged apologetically. "It was a good idea," he said, "but you're not going to find enough info in any book to tell us who's working with your grandfather."

Rebecca shifted and stretched her aching back, still frowning. She glanced out the large window at the busy street outside. It was a beautiful Saturday afternoon, and here they were, sitting in Doc's store looking at library books.

She caught a flash of movement out of the corner of her eye. She wasn't sure, but it looked like someone lowering a cell phone. Or something in an electric blue case, anyway. She turned slowly back to Doc, trying to make it look like she hadn't noticed.

"Doc," she whispered.

He leaned forward, eyebrows raised.

"Someone's taking pictures of us—don't look!" she hissed as Doc immediately looked up, searching the aisles.

"Sorry," Doc murmured. "Did you see who it was? I didn't notice anyone come in recently, except kids…"

Rebecca shook her head. "If someone's spying on us, we have to find out what they know. And who they're working for."

"Okay…" Doc straightened up slowly and made a show of straightening their pile of library books, trying to look like he wasn't looking. Rebecca hid a smile and stretched again; he wasn't that subtle, but he was definitely improving.

She saw another glint of blue out of the corner of her eye.

"Doc," she murmured. "Did you see who it was?"

"Yeah," Doc replied, in a normal volume. He got up and marched around the counter, all pretense of subtlety gone.

Rebecca turned to see Doc approaching a red-headed teenager standing in one of the aisles. He was wearing jeans and a Green Lantern t-shirt, and looked about Chet's age.

"Hey, were you taking pictures of us?" Doc demanded.

The kid looked distinctly uncomfortable. "Um, no, but—well…"

"Come out here." Doc clapped a hand on the kid's shoulder and steered him over to the counter. "You're one of Chet's friends, aren't you? Andrew? Alex?"

"Um, Andrew."

"What were you doing, Andrew?" Rebecca asked. It seemed pretty unlikely any of the 63s would recruit one of Chet's friends, but life was full of surprises.

"Um, nothing, I mean… nothing," the kid stammered, turning bright red.

"You were taking pictures," Doc said, sounding a little angry.

"You're not leaving till you tell us why," Rebecca said sternly. "Did someone ask you to? Were you listening to our conversation?"

Andrew's eyes widened and he shook his head vigorously.

"Let me see your phone," Doc said firmly, holding out his hand.

Andrew turned even redder, but reluctantly handed over the device. Doc took it and quickly found where the photos were stored. Rebecca watched his face as he scrolled through them, and oddly Doc seemed to be blushing slightly.

"Well?" Rebecca asked impatiently, eyeing the hapless Andrew.

"Geez, kid," Doc muttered. He cleared his throat and passed the phone to Rebecca. "Did Chet put you up to this?" he demanded as Rebecca got her first look at the photos.

"Nuh uh," Andrew said. "I mean, he told me about—well, and then I saw her around, and… I mean, I just wanted… but I didn't mean anything…"

Andrew's words would have made absolutely no sense if Rebecca hadn't been looking at his pictures. They were all of her. Rebecca sitting at the comic shop's counter. Rebecca getting out of her car. Rebecca walking down the street. They were all in the neighborhood of Doc's store, and judging by her clothes they had been taken on more than one day.

"Oh my god," Rebecca mumbled. Partly she was shocked that some kid she'd never met was apparently obsessed with her, and partly she was mortified that she, an experienced detective, hadn't noticed him taking all these pictures. She really needed to get her head out of the clouds.

Rebecca quickly searched through the phone's menu and found 'delete.' Once all the photos of her were deleted, she passed the phone back to Andrew, who took it with a shaking hand. He finally met her gaze, and she perceived an odd mixture of adoration and blind terror in his expression.

She looked at Doc, finding herself at a loss for what to say to this kid. Fortunately, Doc had plenty to say.

"Look, you can't just go around taking pictures of women without their permission," he said sternly. "I know you're a kid and your hormones are overriding your social skills, if you even have any, but it's called _stalking_ and it is _not cool._"

Andrew nodded vigorously, looking mortified. He turned to Rebecca and stammered, "I'm really, _really _sorry, um, ma'am. I swear I didn't mean any harm…"

"And stalking a _police detective_? We are _way_ beyond not cool," Doc added mercilessly.

Andrew's jaw dropped. "A police detective? Chet never said—I mean…" All the color drained from his face as he stared at Rebecca. "Please don't arrest me!" he begged, his voice cracking at the end.

Only long practice at hiding her emotions kept Rebecca from laughing at the poor kid. She let him squirm a few more seconds before putting him out of his misery. "I'm not going to arrest you," she told him. "Can I trust you not to pull something like this again?" Rebecca raised her eyebrows inquiringly.

"Yes, yes, absolutely," Andrew replied, nodding enthusiastically. "Never, ever again. And I am really sorry."

"Then I accept your apology," Rebecca said.

Andrew broke out in a relieved grin, clutching his phone.

"Now get going!" Doc said unsympathetically, pointing at the door. "And I better not see you taking pictures around here again."

The kid nodded some more, backing toward the exit. When he got there, he pushed the door open hastily and fled.

"Um… sorry about that," Doc said after a lengthy silence.

"Don't worry about it," Rebecca shrugged. "At least we can rule out involvement of any of the 63s. Seems to me like a pretty strange hobby, though."

"That's because you were never a teenage boy," Doc mumbled.

Rebecca glanced at him quickly. "Not sure I want to know. You ready to grab dinner?"

"Yes!" Doc exclaimed, and handed Rebecca her car keys.

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><p><strong>The end. Or not. My brain seems to enjoy spitting out these little snippets, so another one or more may yet occur to me. If you have a "Doc in shining armor" moment you'd like to see, let me know! I might oblige you. :) Reviews appreciated, in any case.<strong>


	3. Guardian Angel

**A/N: Another one-shot for my collection! An extra-long one! Requested by **_**saving me**_**, who asked for Rebecca taking care of a sick Doc. I hope you like it! And the rest of you, keep the suggestions coming… I've decided to expand the "Doc in Shining Armor" theme to include any of the main characters saving/helping each other in some way. I have a couple more in mind… including a post-finale thing (and requested by **_**Casie01**_**). I also think Ray and Hauser are very interesting characters, so some of my ideas involve them. Anyway, please review and let me know what you'd like to see next.**

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><p><strong>3. Guardian Angel<strong>

Diego Soto groaned pitifully. He felt beyond awful. His sinuses were stuffed and his head was throbbing and he couldn't stop shivering. He didn't understand it; he'd felt fine the night before. His throat had been a little sore, but not much. And then he'd woken up like _this._

He'd made several abortive attempts to get out of bed and go to the kitchen for a drink of water or something, but whenever he managed to get himself vertical the resulting wave of dizziness forced him back to bed. He wondered where his phone was. He thought he'd heard it ringing earlier, maybe somewhere in the living room. He should probably find it and call Rebecca or Hauser so they knew he wasn't coming in today. Or was it the weekend? Was he expected? He couldn't remember.

Time passed. Doc faded in and out of sleep. He wondered what time it was, but shifting around so he could see his alarm clock was too hard. Even coughing was too hard, although he tried anyway.

The room was bright; he'd forgotten to shut the blinds last night. He didn't used to _have _blinds, but his mother had been visiting one day and noticed his uncovered windows. She'd taken him shopping the next day, saying his apartment looked like no one lived there. Which was kind of accurate; he didn't spend much time at home. Just to sleep, really.

Doc slept some more.

When he woke next he felt hot, and thirsty. His throat was so dry he couldn't swallow. With an effort, he rolled himself onto his side. After the dizziness subsided, he slowly swung his legs over the side of the bed and sat up.

It seemed to take forever, but Doc eventually made it out of his bedroom. He stumbled slowly down the hallway, one hand moving along the wall because it was kind of hard to tell which direction was up. It was the corner that did him in; he came around it a little too fast and suddenly the dizziness was overwhelming and the world twisted crazily. Somehow he ended up on the floor, and there he stayed, watching the world swirl lazily overhead.

"Great," Doc muttered. He _really_ wanted a drink of water. And what about his phone? He'd wanted it earlier for… something. Where was it?

He laid there for awhile, mulling this over, and eventually fell asleep. He dreamed that someone was knocking on the door. He awoke to an odd sound; metal scraping on metal. Coming from the direction of the front door. Or maybe that was the bathroom; he was all turned around.

He heard a door open and a familiar voice call, "Doc? You in here?"

He tried to clear his throat to answer but his throat was too dry.

"Oh, Doc!" the voice exclaimed, much closer now. "What's the matter? Are you alright?"

He managed to shake his head slightly and then an angel came into view above him. Large blue eyes gazed down at him out of a smooth pale face framed in a halo of blond hair. The face was pretty, but pinched in concern. The young woman's name was on the tip of Doc's tongue, but he couldn't quite bring it out.

A small, cool hand suddenly came to rest on his forehead. "Geez, Doc, you're burning up! What are you doing out here? You should be in bed!"

He tried to clear his throat again, and his savior seemed to understand. "Hang on, let me get you something to drink."

He drifted until suddenly she was back, pulling him up to lean against the wall. She put an arm around his shoulders and held a glass to his lips, and he drank eagerly. Some of it dribbled down his chin but he didn't care; water had never tasted so good.

"Thanks," he managed to say when he'd had enough.

"You sound terrible. Come on, let's get you back to bed." She pulled him to his feet—she was stronger than she looked—and hooked his arm over her shoulders, supporting him and leading him in what he assumed was the right direction.

Once he was settled in bed, it suddenly came to him.

"Rebecca!" he croaked.

"Yeah, Doc?" she said quizzically.

"Just reminding myself," Doc mumbled. He felt like there was more he ought to say, or something he should ask, but he gave up trying to figure it out and went back to sleep.

When he woke up Rebecca was nowhere in sight, but a cool, damp rag was spread over his forehead, and it felt amazing. He was thirsty again, and he shifted up on an elbow to peer around his room, hoping his guardian angel was still around somewhere. He listened, but the apartment was quiet. He was about to lay down again when he noticed a bottle of water sitting on his bedside table. He sighed in relief and reached for it. He had some water and went back to sleep.

He heard the door opening again.

"Hello?" he tried cautiously.

"Just me," Rebecca said, coming into his room with a large paper bag in her arms. "I went out to get a few things. I looked in your kitchen but you didn't seem to have much. How are you feeling?"

"Um… better, I guess. Maybe." He wasn't sure.

Rebecca sighed. "We should take your temperature. I couldn't find a thermometer so I bought one."

She dug around in the bag for a moment and pulled something out. She tore off the packaging and held out a digital thermometer.

"Open up," she said with a smile, although her eyes were concerned.

Doc opened his mouth for the thermometer and they waited till it beeped. Rebecca took it and frowned at it. "102.3. Geez, Doc."

"That sounds high," he murmured slowly.

"_You _sound high," Rebecca said, rolling her eyes. She dug around in her magic bag some more and pulled out a bottle of Gatorade. She opened it and handed it to him. "Here. You'll feel better when you're hydrated."

She disappeared again while he sipped the Gatorade. Grape-flavored. Not bad. He was still thinking about the grapey-ness of it when she came back and gave him two pills. He accepted them unthinkingly before his brain caught up with events.

"Whoa, um. I can't take these."

"It's just ibuprofen, Doc," Rebecca assured him. "It'll help reduce your fever."

"No, I mean uh… I can't swallow them. Never learned." He wasn't out of it enough not to feel a twinge of embarrassment as Rebecca's brow furrowed.

"Oh. Um, okay, hang on." She took the pills back and disappeared again.

He heard her rummaging in the bathroom for awhile.

"Don't you have any liquid stuff around?" she stuck her head in to say. "Like children's Tylenol or something?"

It took him a moment catch on. "No, guess not." He shrugged. "I never get sick."

Rebecca smiled at him. "Doc, I hate to break it to you, but you got sick."

He leaned his head back against the wall. "Ugh, yeah. I noticed."

Rebecca thought for a minute, shaking the pills in her hand absently. "Okay, I have an idea." She disappeared again.

"Great," Doc said to thin air. He sighed and had more of the Gatorade.

She was gone longer this time, and he heard a loud banging noise coming from the kitchen. He waited, wondering what she could possibly be doing.

"Here you go!" she said proudly, returning at last with a dish of what turned out on closer inspection to be applesauce.

Doc accepted the spoon she handed over and scooped some up.

"You'll probably want to eat it pretty fast," Rebecca said helpfully. "It's not going to taste too good."

"Urgh!" Doc couldn't help a grimace at the bitter taste.

"Eat it all," she ordered cheerfully. "I had a friend growing up who gave medicine to her cat like this. Ground up in a can of cat food."

Doc screwed up his courage and downed the last of the applesauce, washing it down with a swig of Gatorade. "Me-ow," he said when he could speak again. "Is that what that sound was? You were grinding up the pills?"

"Yeah. I put them in a plastic bag and hit them with a hammer."

He started to laugh and sputtered up some of the Gatorade.

Rebecca grinned. "Necessity is the mother of invention, as they say."

A thought occurred to him suddenly. "Hey, not that I'm complaining, but how did you get in here, anyway?"

Rebecca blushed slightly. "Well, you weren't answering your phone, and I got worried… so I broke in."

"You broke in?"

She shrugged. "I pick locks, remember?"

"Oh yeah," Doc mused. "That's what that weird metal-scraping noise must have been."

"Must have been," Rebecca agreed. "I should let you get some rest. Do you need anything else?"

Doc put the disgusting applesauce dish on his nightstand. "Um, no, I'm good. I think I'll just go back to sleep. Thanks a lot, Rebecca, seriously."

"Hey, what are partners for?"

When she left the room Doc laid back down with a sigh, trying not to regret Rebecca's departure. Her presence had taken his mind off the feeling of general crappiness, and he missed her already. He hoped he felt better soon; this being sick business was really miserable.

The next time he woke up it was dark out. He turned over to look at the clock. 11:23pm; he'd slept a long time. He could tell Rebecca's medicine must have helped; he still felt feverish, but his head was much clearer. He sat up slowly, pleased at the lack of dizziness. He drank the rest of the Gatorade, then went to the bathroom. He flicked on the light and paused, startled. There on the counter was the thermometer; next to it was a box of tissues, a bottle of liquid cough syrup with ibuprofen, and a spoon. Rebecca must have gone out again. Doc read the directions on the cough syrup carefully and had a few spoonfuls. He blew his nose and put some extra tissues in the pocket of his pajama pants.

Doc still felt kind of thirsty, and wondered if Rebecca had brought any more Gatorade. He wandered out to the kitchen to check. He opened the fridge and immediately noticed quite a few things that hadn't been there before. There was a six-pack of Gatorade, with one bottle missing, a jar of applesauce, some juice, a half-dozen eggs, and a new tub of margarine. On the counter were a loaf of bread and three cans of soup. Doc stared at them for a moment, touched. She'd done all this for _him._ Rebecca had to be the sweetest friend he'd ever had.

He grabbed another Gatorade and turned to go back to his bedroom when he heard a soft sigh. Doc peered into the living room and realized there was someone on his couch. He knew who he would find before he got there, and sure enough, Rebecca was curled up sound asleep.

She clearly hadn't wanted to leave him alone. Doc smiled down at her, moved by her concern. The gentleman in him felt a little bad that she was sleeping on his couch while he had the bed. He had never considered sleeping on the couch, as it couldn't accommodate his large frame, but his guardian angel looked comfortable enough. He thought she might be cold, though; she had her arms tucked tightly around her. He went to the closet and shook out a spare blanket, draping it carefully over her small form. He tucked it gently under her feet and nodded, satisfied. Gatorade in hand, Doc went back to bed.

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><p>Rebecca woke up to sunlight on her face and opened her eyes slowly. She laid there groggily for awhile, staring at the ceiling, before she realized she didn't have any ceiling fixtures shaped like Spiderman's masked face. She sat up abruptly and looked around. Yup, she was in Doc's apartment. But all was quiet and her partner was nowhere to be seen, so she concluded he was still in bed.<p>

She started to get up and then realized she was covered with a blanket, which didn't ring a bell. "Thanks, Doc," she murmured, smiling, as she folded it and set it aside. She drank some of the juice in the kitchen and washed her face in the bathroom. Then she grabbed the thermometer and the medicine and went to check on her wayward partner.

She found him fast asleep, snoring softly in his bed. Not wanting to wake him, she moved silently to his bedside and laid her hand carefully on his forehead.

Rebecca was not expecting the reaction she got. Doc's eyes flew open and he grabbed her wrist before she could react.

"Whoa, Doc!" she exclaimed. "Relax, it's just me! Relax."

Doc blinked at her for several seconds before his mind caught up. His eyes widened and he released her wrist abruptly.

"Oh my god, I am so sorry," he said, appalled.

"It's okay," Rebecca said cautiously. "What happened? Were you dreaming?"

"Yeah…" Doc shifted himself up to a sitting position.

Rebecca waited to see if he would tell her more, but he remained silent. She knew there was trauma in his past; she wondered if it still affected his sleep. Not wanting to make him uncomfortable, she finally changed the subject and held up the thermometer.

"Here. I wanted to see if your temp's come down. You feel cooler, anyway."

Doc accepted the thermometer but held onto her hand. He pulled her closer and examined the red marks on her wrist, his mouth turning down into a frown.

"I'm so sorry, Rebecca," he said again.

"Doc, it's okay, really," she said, sitting down on the edge of the bed. "You didn't hurt me, I just have really fair skin. It turns red at the drop of a hat. Now come on, let's see your temperature."

He obediently stuck the thermometer under his tongue and they waited.

"100.2," Doc read out when it beeped.

Rebecca released a sigh. "Well, no work for you today. It's better than last night at least."

"I could probably do some research from here… I have my computer," Doc said.

"Maybe later, if you feel up to it, but don't push yourself, Doc," Rebecca replied. "You should be resting. Research some nice boring daytime TV," she added with a grin.

He sniffed. "Time-traveling murderers are more interesting," he pointed out.

"See how you feel," Rebecca said again. "Now, are you hungry?"

Doc thought about it. "Actually, yeah. A bit."

"That's a good sign. I kind of feel like a scrambled egg. You want?"

"Rebecca, you don't have to make breakfast for me."

She smiled. "True. But I have 45 minutes till I need to go home and get ready for work, and I'm not leaving till you have something to eat. So, do you want a scrambled egg? Or toast? I got some bread, too. Your cupboards have like nothing in them."

Doc sighed and surrendered to the inevitable. "Breakfast sounds great," he said with a smile. "You're a good friend, Rebecca. I'd hug you but I don't want to give you my germs."

Rebecca laughed. "I'll take a rain check. Back in a few…"

Doc watched her leave his room and then laid back down. Having a guardian angel was pretty awesome.

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><p><strong>Please make my day and review! :)<strong>


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